Hannah was surprised to see only Adam at the house when she returned with the groceries. Usually all the boys swarmed her and attacked the packages. She always had to factor in what they would eat as they unloaded the groceries when shopping; she generally lost a bag of apples, a gallon of ice cream and inexplicably, once, a jar of mayonnaise.
"Where's everybody?" Crane asked.
"Brian had a big project or something," Adam said vaguely. Hannah furrowed her brow.
"What's wrong?" She began but her husband quickly interrupted her.
"What'd you save us this time, honey?" He asked and she brightened immediately.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you!" She walked out to get more bags.
"The store manager saw her walk in the doors and started shaking! She's a wonder!" Crane said bringing in more bags.
"That she is." Adam said but his tone was sad and Crane looked up.
"Hey, Crane, can you manage this? I gotta talk to Hannah."
"Sure." He said perplexed.
Hannah came in with Daniel just behind her.
"Alright, I'll tell you $115! My best ever! Can you believe it?" She laughed.
"That's great." Adam said but it sounded forced and insincere.
"What's going on?" She asked.
"Crane and I got this, Adam." Daniel said and Adam nodded. Crane looked at Daniel a question on his face.
"Thanks." Turning to his wife he sighed and said. "Come on, sweetheart, you and I gotta talk." He held out his hand to her and looking from Crane to Daniel's faces, she allowed him to lead her away and up to their room.
"What's going on?" She heard Crane ask as they left.
"Adam got a phone call and . . ." Daniel said but she couldn't hear the rest.
***7***
"Sit down, honey." Adam said and she sat on the window seat of their bedroom.
"You're scaring me." She said.
"I got a call while you were out, " He explained. "From Oregon." He swallowed hard, struggling. She studied him with her big brown eyes. He hated that he would be the one to tell her; that he would hurt her. Her curls framed her pretty face, and she looked at him with big, fearful eyes. He didn't want to speak, but knew he had too. He felt trapped, and the memory of telling the little boys their parents were never coming back haunted him.
"Who called? Was it Grace?" She asked. Grace was Hannah's older sister.
Adam had discovered that Hannah's family was fairly complicated. Her parents had divorced while Hannah was ten. "My father favored alcohol over us." She had explained. She had not spoken to him since the divorce. She had stayed with her mother, her older sister Grace had gone with their father. She had been determined to "fix" her dad. She and Hannah rarely spoke during their growing up years, and it wasn't until the death of her mother, that they had reconnected. Hannah had been nineteen then, and Grace twenty-three. They talked regularly from then on, and just recently, they had all met halfway between their homes. They had met her husband Peter, and Hannah's seven year old niece, Isabel.
"No," He hesitated. "It was Peter. I'm sorry, honey, really sorry, but there was an
accident and Grace," He swallowed hard. "Honey, she didn't make it."
"What do you mean?" She asked, the color draining from her face.
"Grace is dead." He said. He found that directness was best -especially when delivering bad news. Hannah rose and crossed the room, pacing. Her face pained and pale.
"Is this some kind of joke? Because . . ." She stood in the center of their room visibly shaking. He rose and went to her immediately.
"Sweetheart, no. I would never. You know I would never. I'm really sorry, honey." He reached out to put his arms around her, but she pushed him away.
"But, I just talked to her yesterday. She was thinking about bringing Isabel here for a visit. Is Isabel alright?" She turned to him, her eyes wide.
"She's fine. She wasn't in the car. Grace was driving at night, and they aren't sure what happened, but . . ."
"She was going to that class! Oh! I talked her into taking classes." She put a shaking hand to her face.
"Honey . . ." He said and reached out for her, but again she stepped away from him.
"You talked to Peter? What did he say? I . . .she was going to come here and . . ."
"Honey, sit down, please." He watched her as she walked to the window and back.
"I don't trust Peter." She said angrily.
"I know." He said remembering their meeting. Neither he nor Hannah, had liked Peter. He had noticed the way that Peter never seemed to treat Grace with any kindness. He had made jokes at her expense, and Adam had been shocked, at the way he had callously bummed her aside while crossing the room. He had kept quiet about it, but later on the drive back she had told him that there was something about him that she didn't trust.
"You don't like him either." She said, her voice angry.
"I don't." He said quietly. "Hannah," He crossed to her but she stepped away again.
"No, Adam, if you touch me, I'll fall apart. I don't want to fall apart. Where are the boys?" To see her in such pain, felt like a physical wound and he longed to hold her in his arms and comfort her.
"Don't worry about the boys, Brian's got 'em." He said gently..
"You wouldn't lie to me - not about this." She looked up into his face. "You wouldn't lie to me about anything."
"No, darlin', I wouldn't." He said. She stood still then in the center of their room, her head down. After a minute, she looked up at him, her big eyes filled with unshed tears.
"Adam?" She said it very softly.
"Can I put my arms around you now?" He asked moving in closer to her.
"Yes." She said reaching out to him, and he pulled her in tight as she sobbed against his shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, Hannah." He said kissing her hair.
"You're all the family I've got left." She whispered. "Please, never leave."
"Never." He said and he held her in his arms while she wept.
